


Ring Ring

by The_Inheritor



Series: A Hipster and an Anarchist - Act 3 [5]
Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Instantly regretting it., It's been a while folks., M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, This will all become clear later I hope., Wrench being curious., Wrench's Brother is referenced., how to tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Inheritor/pseuds/The_Inheritor
Summary: Wrench decides to answer a pay phone that had started ringing the moment he walked past......he immediately regrets it.
Relationships: Marcus Holloway/Wrench
Series: A Hipster and an Anarchist - Act 3 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491476
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Ring Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! \\(^.^)/
> 
> I'm still alive...I'm still about and I'm still writing, albeit under a new alias/psuedonym. I can conform without a shadow of a doubt that I am still mostly Vadam_T, I'm just an Inheritor now. I've been taking a break from this story...namely to clear my gears and write other stuff that is in my more immediate interest. In that time I started working on this a short time ago, without doing a beta check on previous parts...sorry if there are any inconsistencies.
> 
> I can't promise another part any time soon. I'm just writing what comes to me at the moment, and not dedicating myself to making one part after another. Don't get me wrong, Marcus and Wrench will always be one of my OTPs and the likelihood of me abandoning them forever is very slim, I still think about them regularly and some of the recent uploads here have kept me going some of the long and quiet nights quarantine has thrown upon us.
> 
> Anyway...I'm back, atleast for the moment, with this...I hope it's up to my usual standard. It's just over 3000 words, so some of them must be good at the very least.  
> This was written by me...so expect the usual errors, typos and word bugs. (bzz.)
> 
> Take Care out there my friends, please...  
> I love you all (^.^)/

** Ring Ring... **

Sometimes Wrench could hit himself with the trouble he found himself in. Not that this was anything out of the usual, it was just getting really annoying that he consistently found himself in situation much like this one, with varying degrees of risk and thrill attached to them. He came for the thrill, didn't much care for the risk, knowing full well that a certain group of people back at Headquarters would really "enjoy" hearing about how he nearly got himself in deep shit for the fifth time this week.

It had been nearly 2 weeks since Lenni had posted those pictures of him and Marcus to the net, something that over time became less and less irritating. Be it because it genuinely didn't matter to him, or because this was how things were now and he being the stubborn goof he was, had decided that being annoyed about it any longer would have been more taxing for himself and others than just getting on with it. 

There wasn't any real concrete theory as to why Lenni had launched such a personal attack on the two of them. It had been known for a long time that she held a grudge, but if she was thinking of taking that bunker back from them she'd need a small army of her own operatives. Chris, despite his annoying and persistent attitude was nothing if not a tactical genius, and the security he'd set up at their site in Marin was unlike anything seen before.

Anyway, that was a fish that was going to need to be fried at a later date. Right now, Wrench was standing here...staring at the pay-phone which happened to start ringing as he walked past it. He'd just come out of the Umeni Headquarters, one of his favorite places to infiltrate and soak up whatever juicy data he could on them. Dedsec have had Umeni in their scopes for some time...and Wrench hated them personally, they always ruined the best planned operations...there was always that "one guard" according to Marcus who somehow manages to evade their detection and pull and alarm somewhere. It's either that or the Hipster was lying and pulling one himself...which...honestly? He felt stupid even thinking that was a probability.

-RING RING-

It was one of the ctOS Pay Phones, an ancient looking thing that had been installed back in the days of 1.0. Wrench remembered those times fondly. He was only an amateur back in those days, young, angry and quiet. Not young, angry and loud like he was now. The system back then was so much more fluid and interface friendly than it was today. There wasn't any input lag on commands or coding errors that could randomly occur due to the buffer speed of the system being slower than the actual processors.

There were time when he could walk down the street, press a button, and the whole road would implode upwards, as a gas-main beneath it exploded, or a water pipe exploded. That was still possible these days, but you needed Marcus level of skill to accomplish that. Seriously...Wrench was blown away (no pun intended) at just how quickly he was able to make that work during a chase or just for fun when nobody was around. He thought it may have been due to some scripts he'd written himself, but those were as unpredictable and unreliable as they were back in the old days. No, he was just amazing at what he did...

...was there anything that man couldn't do? He even married this sorry excuse of a -

-RING RING-

"Hey!" Wrench exclaims, angry lines flashing on his mask as he stares down the Pay Phone, still ringing before him. "I'm in the middle of pining about my Husband okay? Stop interrupting me."

-RING RING-

"What did you just say about my mother!!?" he paces forwards, hitting it hard on the side. "You fucking bitch!"

He catches himself mid-sentence and bursts out laughing, before taking a deep breath and grabbing the hand-set, bringing it up to his right ear. "Yello?"

The line crackles for a moment, some static occurring before the connection stabilizes.

"And there I was hoping it would have been the Hipster who picked up..." a voice replies, it's deep modulated tone the first thing that sticks out to him. He recognized that from somewhere, but in the moment he couldn't quite place it. It was like his own, but deep and more pronounced. "I suppose you'll have to do as a messenger, Wrench."

"Who is this?" Wrench asks immediately. "How do you know who I am?"

"You've had issues with Miss Kastner and her Brother as of late..." the voice continues, ignoring his questions. "I've seen the photographs...very interesting. I suppose it makes sense."

"And how do you know about that?" Wrench asks, turning slightly where he's standing. A couple of people walk past him on their way to who knows where. "I put a filter on anything that left the city..."

"Yes, you always did take your privacy very seriously..." the voice says with a modulated sigh. "Despite the FBI and every government organization this side of the States knowing who you are, where you were born, and most of your background, right down to your current whereabouts and known associates."

"What?" Wrench tilts his head, question marks appearing on his mask. He knew the FBI had a file on him, but Sutton, their Cyber Terrorism Leader had given him his word that there would never be any leaks of information over that. He wouldn't have broken that promise would he? Wrench literally hits himself as the reality of that situation comes down on him...almost a year too late. Of course he wouldn't. He was bound by his superiors, if they wanted it, he'd have no choice but to hand it over. "Fucking-! I trusted that dickbag not to give my business out to everyone."

"That's a problem for you and your friends to deal with down the line." the voice replies indifferently. "Right now you have a much bigger issue on your hands, one that extends far beyond the realms and loud mouth of the Kastner Twins."

"...Oh." Wrench turns the opposite direction, his left forearm coming to rest atop the Pay Phone. "What would that be?"

"When you halted my plans on the Bay last year, you were under the impression that the matter regarding my organization and myself was laid to rest." the voice explains. "However I can assure that there were contingency plans in place should I fail. Contingency plans which...despite my best efforts...are rapidly reaching their implementation phase."

"The Bay?" Wrench tilts his head slowly. "Last year? What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Wrench." the voice firms slightly. "Don't play the fool."

"Omicron..." Wrench suddenly says as it dawns upon him. It should have been obvious to him from the start of this conversation. He knew he'd heard that voice before. "...What the fuck...you were taken away by Pearce...what the hell are you doing back in San Francisco."

"If I was still in San Francisco, I would have dealt with this situation before it even arose." Omicron replies through a sigh. "Unfortunately, you, Marcus and your friends saw to that never happening."

"You captured him." Wrench says next. "You tortured him for information and nearly killed him."

"That had nothing to do with me." Omicron says. "Every organization as hit's acolytes...it's zealous followers who would do anything to please their masters."

"I should have fucking shot you." Wrench mutters. "Pearce too...I should have fucking killed the pair of you!"

He glances over his shoulder at someone who had looked his way as he shouted. They keep moving, understandably. 

"Yet you chose not too..." Omicron replies. "And since that day, I have had time to think about what happened, and why..."

"You sucked." Wrench shrugs. "That's why."

"I would have gotten my way...if it weren't for you and Marcus." Omicron states. "However thanks to you I didn't...and as such, contingency plans were put into effect...plans which as we speak are nearing their completion."

"What plans!?" Wrench suddenly shouts. "What the fuck could you possibly say to me now that you'd have me believe."

"Miss Kastner and her esteemed Brother were on my radar for some time before I made my moves in California." Omicron explains, again ignoring those questions. "I knew they were both bitter about what you had done to them...and whilst I orchestrated the Division of Dedsec I found out about their previous attempts to...smoke you out as it were. The Bombing of your Headquarters, the attacks on your Operatives across the city...Maxwell got nasty."

"And?" Wrench asks, incredulous. "What does this have to do with these plans you're on about?"

"The situation you find yourselves in...goes much further than Prime_Eight." Omicron says. "Honestly they couldn't put a dent on you if they tried...the Ferals however-"

"The Ferals are gone." Wrench says. "They were dismantled by the Feds shortly after your ass was ousted! I watched the whole process, there's nothing left of your organization."

"Not in Greater San Francisco...No..." Omicron replies thoughtfully. "But in the immediate vicinity? That's another can of worms entirely."

A sigh. "There are several cells still operating in secret outside of the city...the primary one being in Richmond."

"And why are you telling me this?" Wrench asks, about ready to put the phone down. "You know what, forget it...I don't have to listen to this."

As he's about to hang up, Omicron speaks, halting him.

"Ryan Hawick..." he states. "That's the cell leaders name...sound familiar?"

Wrench freezes on the spot, his eyes widening under his mask and a persistent pair of letter Os appearing on it's outward display. "...No."

"He's been a part of the Ferals for a short time, rose up through the ranks quite quickly after I was removed-"

"No." Wrench repeats, the Os replaced with angry lines. "You don't just drop my brothers name like that and get off fucking lightly!"

At that moment the phone in his vest pocket buzzes. He reaches into it, using his thumb to swipe the screen upwards. What he's greeted with would have made his jaw drop if the mask wasn't stopping it. "...What-...What the fuck?"

There was a photograph of his brother, seemingly talking with several unknown persons. Two of them have their backs turned to the camera, but one of them, standing to his left, the right in the picture, doesn't. A shorter man with aviator shades covering his eyes. Short-ish black hair and thick scruffy stubble. 

"Your Brother has been working with them since the incident on the bay." Omicron explains. "He didn't join Dedsec for reasons unknown. I guess he didn't want to encounter you with whatever plans he had made."

"Ryan..." Wrench breathes a sigh. He'd not seen his brother for years...over a decade in fact. He had been contacted by him a while ago, but he never took him up on it. "...look at you."

He was much slimmer than he remembered him, though he was only a kid when he ran away...and that shifted perceptions of people. That and he could have lost weight since then, though his face is almost exactly the same as it was.

"The man on the right of the picture is Damian Ross, his second and head of personal security." Omicron points out. "If you wish to find your brother, you'll need to go through him first...he accompanies him everywhere."

"Who says I want to find him...?" Wrench asks, slightly subdued. He couldn't take his eyes off of that picture, it was like he was transfixed. His thoughts immediately shift to his sister. Where was she in all of this? Jenny was just a little girl when he ran off, she'd be about 20 by now. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she was roped up in this...Ryan was always his bother, but he was distant. Jenny was his best friend as well as his sibling. Despite his best intentions on a couple of occasions, he couldn't forget that.

"You'll have to if you want to stop them from implementing their plans..." Omicron says next, warranting another burst of anger from the Anarchist.

"You think for one fucking second I believe any of this shit!?" he shouts, turning on the spot. "You've crossed a fucking line, Markowicz. First you capture and torture my husband, then you start sending me pictures of my brother!? When I get my hands on you-"

"I need to speak with your Leader." Omicron says next, once again seemingly ignoring his comments. "I need to speak with Sitara."

His phone buzzes again, a number appearing on the screen. "Give her that number..."

"How do you know what's on my phone-screen?" Wrench asks next, as ever the most unlikely question takes priority in the moment, though that had saved his ass before. "Are you watching me?"

"No." Omicron replies. "I'm simply utilizing the environment around you to my advantage."

Wrench tilts his head, question marks appearing on his mask. Then with a gasp, he reaches up and tares it form his face. "Motherfucker!!"

He looks at the front of it, hearing a deep modulated chuckle over the phone. "Yes...it's a genius piece of equipment...but so incredibly easy to hack. Did you learn nothing from that run-in with the FBI?"

With that Wrench has had enough, he slams the phone down and tosses his mask to the ground, using his right foot to stamp the front of it. The goggles warp and crack and the camera eventually shorts out, a small spark escaping it. "FUCK YOU!!!"

His anger vented in one loud scream, he quickly realizes what he's done. And with a gasp, reaches down and picks it up. "Oh Fuck...What have I done? Nononononono!!!"

Hitting the side of it with his hands, the warped goggles light up, glitching and flickering, before dying completely. He grunts to himself, shaking his head in disgust with himself. As far as stupid mistakes went that was a new one. He'd just gotten this thing refurbished too. It would take some time to repair it fully...great.

His eyes shift to the phone in his left hand, and the number on it's screen. A message appears below it |

_ ** Hurry Dylan...there isn't much time. - O ** _

Suddenly Wrench finds himself regretting answering that phone. He starts walking, in what direction? He doesn't care. He just wanted to head home, have a few beers...and forget what had just happened. This day had gone from pleasant to miserable in the space of a few minutes. Story of his fucking life...

* * *

** SOME TIME LATER **

Without a word, Wrench closes the door of the apartment over, leaning back on it to gather his thoughts. He could smell something that was in the midsts of being cooked, it was dreamy...not charcoal like Marcus' attempts at cooking often were. He looks up from the floor as someone moves into the hallway to greet him.

"Well you took your time." Sitara says, folding her arms, a dish cloth draped over her shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd get back tonight."

"What?" Wrench snaps out of his thoughts. "Oh Yeah...sorry...I was all over the place for a while there. Lost track of everything."

She steps towards him, her face dropping when she sees the ruined mask in his right hand. "What happened to that?"

Her eyes glance upwards to his face, he looked about ready to burst. "Are you alright?"

In a rare show of willpower he manages to swallow back everything that threatens to surface and puts on a smile. "Nothing...just had a fall."

Without any warning he moves past her and into the sitting room.

T-Bone is sitting on the couch, a beer in hand. He looks his way, raising the beer in greeting. "Yo!"

"Drunk us dry already, Old Man?" Wrench asks, sitting down next to him. Placing his ruined mask on the coffee table. "I should have known."

"Actually I brought a case from Headquarters." T-Bone says, sitting forwards and reaching into a Budweiser box on the floor by his feet. He pulls a bottle out and hands it to him. "There ya go, get one down you...you look like you could need it."

Wrench, despite himself, manages to laugh. With a flick of his thumb, he pops the cap off the top, catching it in his left hand. "You have no idea..."

Sitara had returned to the kitchen and was in the middle of checking out what was cooking in the oven. It smelt like roast beef, something that she'd made before to what was supposedly her mothers recipe. As far as Wrench was concerned, he didn't care what it was...it was gorgeous, and he wasn't one to eat such things regularly.

After a moment or two of tinkering she stands up and calls out. "Marcus? Come in here would you?"

Wrench glances over to the hallway as the bedroom door opens up, the room filled with the infectious laughter of his favorite person in the world. Both Marcus and Josh come out of the room, followed by Chris who appears to have been the source of their glee. 

"That's fuckin' incredible, man." Marcus pats him on the shoulder. "You really need to send us that one."

"For sure." Josh agrees. "I can already see it's uses in the field."

"I'll be sure to have Ghouly and the others send you the source codes..." Chris nods. "So you can tweak it to your liking."

"Cannot wait." Marcus claps his hands together, beaming. He turns to the kitchen and Sitara who is waiting for him, her arms crossed. "You gonna ask me if it's done or not? I told you I'm not a chef...I mean I burned an egg once, just ask Wrench."

"Yeah the smell didn't leave us for a couple of weeks." Wrench comments from the couch.

"Where the hell have you been?" Marcus turns to face him as he stands up, mainly to prevent him from coming over there and spotting the mask. "I told you to get back here an hour ago."

"I got distracted." Wrench says, not ignorant to the strange look Sitara was giving him. Chris and Josh were conversing just out of ear-shot in the hallway. "You know what I'm like."

"Yeah, I do." Marcus snorts, before putting his left arm around his shoulder and kissing him on the side of the head. "I hope you got what you were looking for...with Umeni."

"Oh Yes." Wrench smirks, reaching into his vest pocket and taking out his phone. "It's all on this, we can open it up later."

"Good work." Marcus gives him a look only he would understand. "I'm certainly looking forward to that."

"If you two are quite done flirting." Sitara interrupts the two of them, suitably amused by their interaction. "We need to set the table...it's done."

"Right." Marcus snaps out of his own daze, it was one of those rare moments that Wrench lived for, where he'd been so distracted by him that he'd lost track for a moment. "...Yeah, I'll go get the extra chairs."

He pats Wrench on the shoulder before heading back into the bedroom.

Wrench looks about the apartment, thinking carefully...

...yeah...he stood a good chance of forgetting about what had happened...give or take a few beers.

...

**Author's Note:**

> Upon reading this back I realized I completely neglected to mention the attack that involved Wrench. This is my fault as I assumed that story was part of the "Other Stories" series. My bad (-.-) I'll try not to ignore blatant errors like that in future, promise.
> 
> Be Safe and Be Well...all of you.  
> See you in the next one!


End file.
